Crawling
by Baby Cougar
Summary: Crawling by Linkin Park. Shino thinks about the creatures inside of him, and how they have ruined his life. Angsty.


Freak. Creep. Bug-Boy. Weirdo. Stone. Jerk. Disturbing. Scary.

Yeah, that's me. I'm sitting in my room, shirt off, cross-legged on the bed, thinking. Is it really worth it?

_Crawling in my skin_

I know they're there. I can feel them, constantly moving, feeding. There's nothing I can do about it, they are a part of me. They are also the reason I am the way I am.

_These wounds they will not heal_

I finger some of the holes that pepper my body. From being broken open so many times, they no longer close. I look like somebody took a bird gun and emptied ten rounds into me.

_Fear is how I fall_

People are afraid of me. It works well when I am terrifying my opponents, but it is bothersome when even my own teammates shy away from me. They fear what would happen if I ever got angry at _them_.

_Confusing what is real_

Yeah. Sometimes I wonder if this is really life. It can't really be that cruel, can it? Yes, I suppose it can.

_There's something inside me_

_That pulls beneath the surface_

_Consuming, confusing_

_This lack of self control I fear_

_Is never ending, controlling_

Inside me, under my skin, is a deadly force just waiting to be called upon. They know my every emotion, feed upon my life, attack when I'm angry. Just under the skin, they lie, awaiting their time. It frightens many, except those of my own clan. We understand, we try to control them, but, there's always the chance they won't listen. If that happens, you'll be lucky to survive. If we tell them to go, you won't survive. That's just how it is. I fear for my teammates, I do not want to become angry around them, because the creatures beneath my skin will become agitated, and burst forth, attacking the closest breathing thing, friend or foe. My worry never ends, it controls my life.

_I can't seem to find myself again_

_My walls are closing in_

_(Without a sense of confidence)_

_(I'm convinced that there's)_

_(Just too much pressure to take)_

_I've felt this way before, so insecure_

I sit against the bed frame, listening to the haunting buzz that always fills my ears. It lulls me into darkness, and, like a frightened child, I cower, feeling them swarm upon me. I feel ashamed, I should be able to control them by now. But, the pressure of it is terrible, and I'm not so sure if I can handle it. It makes me feel awful, but for the sake of my comrades, and my own life, I have to control it. I have to.

_Crawling in my skin_

_These wounds they will not heal_

_Fear is how I fall_

_Confusing what is real_

They are always with me, crawling, writhing. I feel their every movements, sometimes I can even see them moving under my skin. I get angry, why do I have to put up with this? Why cant I be normal, too? As if responding to my anger, some burst free of my skin, and survey the surroundings. Nothing to attack. They flit about my head angrily, as if I called them out for no reason. They land on my arms and chest, and , just out of spite, instead of using the holes that exist, they burrow in, creating new ones. I feel blood roll down my chest; it always hurts.

Once, my female teammate saw me. The real me. I did not know anyone was present, so I removed my heavy jacket. All the holes were visible, and _they_ were crawling in and out of them. I heard a gasp, and knew, knew that she, too, would fear me. Fear me for the freak I am. It puzzles me, my life.

_Discomfort, endlessly has pulled_

_Itself upon me distracting, reacting_

_Against my will I stand beside my own reflection_

Sighing, I get up off the bed and look at my self in the full-length wall mirror. Disgusting. I take off my glasses so I can take a good look. My arms and chest, riddled with grotesque punctures. Dries blood on my arms and chest. I know that my back, and the rest of me, is no better off. This is not a comfortable life, it hurts every time I use this special ability, but I don't let anyone know. Why does it matter? Not like they'd care anyway. It distracts me sometimes, how ignorant they can be. They know who, nay, _what_ I am, and yet…

Shrugging off the thought, I look back to my face. I see the creatures moving, right behind my eyes. An open portal, it seems. I often wonder why I even have vision, when these creatures have all but eaten away my eyes, leaving an open window to my soul. I wear the shades so I do not scare people. Well, anymore than I already do. I bring up my right hand, touching it to it's reflected counterpart in the mirror. Pale, like the light has never touched the skin.

I let a single tear fall down my cheek. My hand fists. Upon seeing the weakness in my reflection, I punch the mirror; shattering myself. I feel the glass cut deep into my hand. Yeah, well. Who cares. I look at the damage; it hurts, but _they_ are already there, crawling out of the wound, mending it in that weird little way that they do. I guess they do come in handy, but the bad outweighs the good.

_It's haunting how I can't seem_

_To find myself again_

I retreat back to the bed. It's pointless, really, when you think about it. It's not like I can do anything about them anyway. If I did manage to rid myself of them, I would die. Nice relationship, huh? I close my eyes, and lose myself again. Only this time, I don't wake up.

_My walls are closing in_

_(Without a sense of confidence)_

_(I'm convinced that there's)_

_(Just too much pressure to take)_

_I've felt this way before, so insecure_

They haunt my dreams, closing in on my, suffocating me. It's too much for me to take at times. I wake up, angry. I leap off the bed and fall to my knees, screaming, clutching my head. My glasses lay forgotten on the table.

The buzzing in my head is unbearable, but the pain is much worse. I seem to explode, as they react to my fierce anger they burst free, all of them, all at once, a huge cloud of death swarming around me.

My father hears, and runs to my bedroom. He shouts, but I cannot hear him now, I am too far gone.

_Crawling on my skin_

_These wound they will not heal_

_Fear is how I fall_

_Confusing what is real_

I wake up days later. Everything is white. I am in a hospital bed. I have lost a lot of blood. But, the buzzing is still active in my ears. They complete me, whether I like it or not. It's just the way it works. I look around, seeing the angry look of my father, and the fearful looks of my teacher and teammates. Why are they afraid? It is then I notice my glasses are missing. They know, and things will never be the same.

_Crawling in my skin_

_These wounds they will not heal_

_Fear is how I fall_

_Confusing, Confusing what is real_

I look to my arms. They are heavily bandaged, as well as the rest of my body. I see that one shoulder is not. I look at it. Holes. Black holes. The edges are torn, most likely from my latest attack. Yeah. I never was good at controlling it.

_There's something inside me_

_That pulls beneath the surface_

_Consuming_

_(Confusing what is real)_

_This lack of self control I fear_

_Is never ending, controlling_

_(Confusing what is real)_

I will eventually learn to accept it. I am an Aburame, and the Kikai are a part of me, good; or bad.


End file.
